The Museum of Natural History
by Sentimental Semantics
Summary: A story about growing up. Dedicated to my friend Mr. Colour as a birthday gift. Oneshot; rated T for 'totally awesome'. ...Or maybe just for Teen.


**Story explains itself, I think...**

"Mama—"

"Not now, sweetheart."

After Sven had been born, Claire had bought a lot of books on parenting. She had spent the first thirty four years of her life mocking child-psychology books and booklets, but a few weeks after Sven was born she'd practically bought a library of the damn things. Her belly hadn't even shrunk back to its normal size when she'd walked into the bookstore and hoarded everything she could find that she thought looked like a good source of information on what to do with her newfound status as a mother. One of the things she'd read in almost every book was "listen". She'd been told to never overlook her child, even if she was busy and bothered; no child should ever be neglected, no question should ever be unanswered. But right now she didn't quite have the ability to answer all of Sven's blissfully-ignorant queries.

"Where are we going, Mama?"

_I don't know_ didn't really instill confidence in Claire herself, so she didn't want to labor Sven's young mind with the same uncertainty. "We'll be there soon," She said, holding him tight to her chest. She'd kicked off her heels a long time ago, as they made it near-impossible to run. She'd always hated the things; their abandonment had been a long time coming.

No self-help books on motherhood had showed her the how-to (or even given advice) on the current situation. Lullabies? Yes. Diaper-changing? Yes. Sex talk? Sort of. First day of school? Yes.

Ferrying your child to safety through the heart of a vicious battle? No.

Jacinto had come under attack about two hours ago, and the city was beginning to fall and crumble, inch by inch, street corner by street corner, as the Locust advanced. Fortunately the battle seemed to have died down in Claire's district; bullets had stopped flying through the air, but the smells and sights-the aftermath of combat-was still present. She'd done her best to ignore them and run through it all, which has a hard task; having abandoned her shoes, she was barefoot, and her feet had become soaked with…something. She didn't want to look down.

Where was Jeffrey at a time like this? God only knew. Claire decided that it said something about the human condition that, even as she was running for her _and _her child's life, she could still spare a few brief moments feeling angry at her husband. He'd been gone for almost a year— he'd up and left. Claire had no idea where he had gone—joined the Gears, maybe, or just wandered off into the murderous wilderness. One way or another, he'd left her and Sven alone to fend for themselves. She could have used the bastard's help right about now…

"Mama?"

Claire sighed, glancing around the corner of a building riddled with bulletholes, checking for trouble. "…Yes?" She finally managed.

"Are we leaving?"

Claire swallowed a bubble building up in her throat. "Yes, Sven," She said, beginning to move down the street, looking at each alley as if it was filled with serial killers. "We're leaving."

Claire wasn't exactly sure where they were going. People were evacuating and she _certainly _wasn't going to let her baby boy be left behind…but she didn't know exactly _where_ they would go, but anywhere was better than this slowly-bleeding city, this derelict home. "We're going to our new home," She added, trying to put a positive spin on things. It didn't work.

"Oh." Sven looked sad when she looked down at him; she had him pointed upwards so he was looking at the underside of her chin. That way, he wouldn't have to see everything. "Mama…?"

"Yes?"

"Will the Natural History Museum be near where we're going?"

On Sven's first birthday, Claire had taken him to the Jacinto Museum of Natural History. He'd loved it and had begged to go back whenever he could, to see the dinosaur skeletons and the big diamonds and rocks they had on display. He'd begged and begged, and so she'd taken him there on his second birthday, too—and his third.

Claire bit her lip before saying, "Maybe they'll have a new museum for you, Sven."

"I love the museum," Sven murmured.

"I know, sweetheart. I'm…" Claire heard a gunshot in the distance, followed by several. She kept herself distracted from the need to scream by talking to him. "I'm sorry."

"Its okay, Mama," Sven said.

Claire blinked. "It is?"

"Yeah. We can still go places together. Like a new museum!" Claire was many things, but she was not invincible. Her eyes brimmed up with tears. "Mama?"

"Y-yes, baby?"

"What's wrong?"

Claire blinked. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong. Just…" She spotted a bit of the inky, blotted horizon. "Someday, Sven, you will…" She nodded her head several times, more to herself than anyone else. "You won't need me to go and see the museum. Okay? You'll grow up and be able to visit yourself."

"I _like_ going with you, Mama."

Claire's face was beginning to dampen. "I like going there with you too, Sven." Sven beamed up at her, his pink face bright with satisfaction. Claire tried to steady her breathing and smile down at him. From somewhere very nearby emanated a very feral and very inhuman noise. "Shit."

"What, Mama?"

"Nothing, sweetheart. Shhh."

Claire broke into a sprint, holding Sven's small form to her chest, not looking over her shoulder. As she neared the street corner, she heard another, louder roar from behind her.

She looked down the street, to the left, and saw a helipad. She didn't have time to be thankful, however, and simply began to run towards it, hearing footsteps pursuing her around the corner.

"Sven?"

"Yes Mama?"

"No matter what happens, just remember that Mama loves you very much," Claire stammered. "Okay sweetheart?"

"Okay M—"

Claire couldn't hear the rest of what her son said because it was drowned out by gunfire. Claire and Sven both instinctively yelled in alarm, but Claire didn't stop running. She felt an abrupt gust of wind, created by a passing bullet, send her hair bouncing up into the air. There was another alien-sounding roar.

Gunfire continued for several seconds. Claire collapsed to the ground, her dress billowing around her ankles like a cloak, pressing her forehead close to Sven's and closing her eyes.

"Mama!"

"Its okay, Sven," She managed over the gunfire. "Its okay."

She sat there, holding him, for what seemed like too long, and the entire time she thought of how much more time she should have taken everyday to sit down with Sven and just hold him. She tried to steady her breathing. When the gunfire stopped, somewhat abruptly, she heard a quiet,

"Miss?"

She turned and looked up, seeing a large, fully armored human being—a Gear. He was carrying an enormous weapon and was completely anonymous behind his large, blue-white mask; he could have been her brother, or her 'husband' or anyone. She didn't know who he was.

"Are you alright?"

"Y-yes," She said, getting up. "Yes."

"Control, this is Alpha Nine. We have one…" He paused, looking at her as she stood, and seeing Sven. Sven gaped at the soldier. "Two, sorry, _two _civilians. Escorting them to evac now."

Claire didn't hear a reply other than static. "Thank yo—"

"Miss, we're not safe yet. Thank me when we get to the Raven."

"How far?"

"A block or so. Can you walk?"

Claire gritted her teeth. "Yes. I can walk." She was splattered with blood from her travels; she must have looked a complete mess.

"Alright. Come on."

The trip to the chopper was mercifully short. It was only a short distance, and she heard it before she saw it—the whirring blades kicked up a lot of noise. She spent the entire way there thanking the soldier profusely, and also telling Sven how brave he had been. He stared at the Gear most of the way, in awe of the large man.

The Gear jumped up onto the chopper and bent down. "Pass me the boy," He said.

"What?" Claire asked, incredulous. "No!" She pulled herself in with a gasp of pain, bringing Sven with him. The soldier was somewhat caught off-guard, not really sure what to do.

"…Sorry."

"Its fine," She said. "I just…" She paused. "Thank you. For saving us."

The soldier stared at her as she sat on the floor of the Raven. Her breathing was growing more ragged by the second. "Miss, are you alright? No injuries?"

With a gasp of relief, now knowing Sven was safe, Claire pointed to her thigh, ready to focus on herself. The soldier hadn't seen it while they were moving to the chopper, but there was much more blood there than anywhere else. "Miss!"

She near-collapsed backwards. "Mama!" Sven screamed.

"Medic!" The soldier started shouting. "We need a medic over here!"

"Mama!"

"Your mother will be fine," The soldier said, stooping over her as a medic approached. "Its not bad…" He clearly had never read any mothering-instruction books; he was a bit too gruff.

"I'll be fine," Claire agreed, staring at Sven. "Sven, whatever happens…Mama loves you, okay?" Sven nodded, crying.

"Please be okay, Mama."

A medic hurried over. "I will be," Claire said, wounded but content. "But…you can visit the museums by yourself soon, okay?"

"Okay," Sven said, clutching at her hand. "Okay."

Claire was feeling dizzy. "Someday you'll be big and strong and you'll be _in _the museum. People will come to see you. You'll be a hero. Okay, sweetheart?"

"I promise, Mama."

Claire smiled at him.

**Thanks for reading. The door's on your left, but if you'd donate a review on the way out, it'd be awesome...thanks again...**


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